Palegoldenrod

A 23 hour bus ride from Iguazu to Salta left me feeling a little drained, but it was still good to see a familiar face in Jay when I arrived. Through some fluke we both ended up there at the same time, and were planning to travel north in roughly the same direction at the same time too. high five

Salta was warm, fairly tranquil and generally a nice city. We stayed at one of the HI Hostels (the one in calle Buenos Aires) which, as well as having a bar, breakfast and a good feel also had a pool and dinner included most nights as well. This was a great opportunity to meet people and have some good food while saving that precious ca$h.

My accomplishments in the week I was in Salta were few. Jay and I climbed the nearby hill – by the steps, not via the pansy cable car doohicky, mind you. 1070 steps up, 1070 back. It was a good walk, though it did remind me how unfit I am! I sampled many a coffee in the areas around the main plaza too – nothing too memorable there.

We met some other guys and gals on a day tour to Cafayate, which took us through some beautiful countryside as well as a short walk in a few gorges and finally to Cafayate itself where we sampled wine at two vineyards, had lunch and lazed on the grass in the sun in the main plaza. We also got to have photos with the “World Famous” llama named Thalia. Thalia selected Jay as the only member of our tour to spit upon, which he narrowly avoided due to quick reflexes. It was a great day.

One memory I will keep from Salta: The night before the Cafayate tour I wasn’t able to sleep, so I got up at 5.30am or so and went for a walk. Continuing with my trend of speaking with homeless people, I started talking to a vagabond (Fernando) who had some stories about how he lost his daughter and how he had been living on the streets for years, as well as a bit of poetry here and there. He shared some gin with me while a working girl came up and started talking to us as well. There was an awkward silence at one point which was then filled by Fernando’s (impromptu, I think) recitation in Spanish. I can’t remember the exact Spanish words, but the gist of it in English was:

I have no words for you, friend
Only the warm sun on my face
And the gentle breeze at my back.
I’m sorry.

After which he gave me a hug and wandered away into the early morning light, almost-empty gin bottle dangling loosely in his fingertips.

We went out to the clubs a few times – all the clubs are on one street, and were OK. While walking home one night with Jay and Claire, we saw what appeared to be a working girl sauntering towards us, dressed in the expected revealing attire. As we passed this person, they let out the biggest, most masculine grunt imaginable – as if to prove the point that “she” was in fact a “he”. We all looked at each other as we kept walking, and finally burst out laughing uncontrollably. It was so unexpected, and, while I am not capable of describing it well, was hilarious.

On our last night we went to a traditional restaurant that is not well known by tourists, but is popular with locals. The food was great, and there was a group of 3 guys (with guitar and cajon) singing Andean music which was excellent.

Eventually Jay and I bought our tickets to La Quica (the town on the border with Bolivia) and caught a bus up there. We had heard about unrest in Bolivia (it turned out to be only parts of it). We had even been told by the information desk at the Salta that the Bolivian border was closed and we couldn’t enter. They were wrong.

We slept through our 6 or 7 hour bus ride to La Quiaca, stayed the night in a random hostel and then walked across the border to Bolivia without incident the next morning.

(Please prepare yourself once again for a flurry of posts in an effort to catch up on the last month of my travels).

Puerto Iguazu is a town in Northeastern Argentina – the Argentine town at Iguazu Falls. After farewelling the guys in BA I jumped on a Crucero del Norte bus (cama, of course) for a 17 hour overnight solo busride and a chance to catch up on some sleep.

I didn’t realise that the bus was so cold until I stepped off and into humid 35 degree heat and full midday sun. Looking around, I was already starting to appreciate the town – green, quiet, wide streets with parks and cafes and not much else. After a week of party in BA, the town was looking perfect.

I had selected a random hostel from hostelworld – Puerto Canoas – because it was in town and it wasn’t the HI hostel. I wanted quiet, not more parties… and anyway, the HI Hostel was out of town. I took a taxi to the hostel which turned out to be a whole 3 blocks away (I didn’t care, I was tired and hot). The owners there spoke no English, I realised immediately – as I walked in the door another Australian guest was trying and failing to ask (in English) how he could wash his clothes. Excellent I thought, more opportunity to practice after having travelled with English speakers for a few weeks

After dumping my gear I decided to go for a walk through the town and then along the river. As usual I was unprepared. I had not researched Iguazu much, except how to get to the falls themselves. While walking along the riverbank I discovered that there is a place there where two huge rivers converge. From the top of the hill there you can see the two other points of land – Brazil and Paraguay, each with an obelisk and their national colours. The convergence of 3 nations. Very cool to see.

I walked back and spent the rest of the afternoon in a hammock at the hostel, soaking it all in. The courtyard with strange and unusual plants overflowing the garden borders, the humidity; the terracota tiles on the ground and the brightly painted walls; the blue sky; the sound of the birds and the breeze in the trees. After dark, the sound of heavy rain on the tin roof. It was wonderful.

The next day I jumped on an early bus to the falls themselves, to arrive shortly after the park had opened. I decided to go by myself rather than with a tour – it was cheaper, I could stay as long as I wanted and move at my own pace. I’m glad I did it that way.

I really wish I could upload my photos for you right now, because I don’t think that anything can explain the falls except the photos. Actually, not even then. You really need to be there, to see the whole thing… to turn around 360 and see the sheer size of it all and feel like you are (in the words of Kimya Dawson) “a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye”. Especially at one place where there is a boardwalk that takes you right up to a wall of water from a huge fall. Standing there with that vast amount of water falling from such a great height behind you – when you turn to face it there is nothing but a wall of water filling your vision… the deep rumbling blocking out everything else and the water spray, cold and fresh, drenching your clothes through. It is definitely an experience.

There is an island there too which looked really cool and is accessible only by boat, but because the river was up so high no one could go across that day (d’oh).

I walked around the falls (the Argentine side only) for the whole day and finally went back to the town for a coffee. I then booked my ticket to Salta and then spent another relaxing evening at the hostel.

A full week in Buenos Aires, especially in the Milhouse Hostel, may be enough to kill some people. It is quite possible to inadvertently party yourself to death in that place. I think I came close.

Brad and I arrived at about 10am after an interesting taxi ride from the bus station where I took the opportunity to practice my spanish and essentially unravel the taxista’s life story as well as grab some tips for nightlife in BA. We couldn’t check in until 1 so we sat internetting in the foyer for a few hours where I got talking to Jay (England).

I quickly determined that Jay was indeed not a freak (remembering a certain crazy Isreali at another hostel) but instead quite cool, if a bit too witty for his own good. After meeting up with Brad’s sister Aline and her friend Sharni, we all agreed to head out that night. We hit the Bahrein for some drum and bass and while the night was still quiet at 2am by 3 it had picked up and we let Brad loose on the dancefloor with us where the statue made its famous appearance once again. A good time was had by all.

Over the next few days and nights we explored Palermo, La Boca, the centre and Recoleta, some restaurants, the movies, as well as checking out a hip-hop / reggaeton club called Lost with some more of Aline’s friends. After Lost, Jay, Brad and I wandered over to club 69 for “electronic music and a tranny show” which instead turned out be a sex show and the first time I have seen a completely naked woman on stage. It was an interesting night. Also Carly’s lesson #1: do not accept a smoke from a cute Argentinian. Especially not in a club like that. But never fear, no harm befell me. My boys (ever my heroic protectors) and I made it home safely even if we were generally a bit disappointed with the evening.

Brad, Aline and Sharni left us towards the end of the week and Jay met two new incredibly cool people: Zac (Australia) and Charlie (England). On my last Saturday night Jay, Zac, Charlie and I booked a trip to the Pacha Club via the hostel (a bus straight to the club, access to the VIP room etc) and off we went. Best night ever in South America so far, hands down, hard to beat. Do it. There was an English DJ playing (sorry guys, I can’t remember who, but the boys were excited to hear about it) the music was good, the company was great, the vibe was unbelievable – there were a few thousand people on the main dance floor. All round awesome. Never did find the VIP room though, haha.

We were there until close at 7am and eventually managed to find a taxi back home where we had some breakfast. Some of us decided to catch a few hours sleep while others wanted to push through to the afternoon when we had a soccer trip planned. We again booked with the hostel because we were lazy (it is much more expensive than buying the ticket directly from the stadium – the only convenience is the bus… don’t buy through the hostel unless you are as lazy as us).

The football game was a disappointment, and no it wasn’t just because we were feeling seedy. The talent (or lack thereof) was, as Charlie declared, “meh”, but the crowd was loud and passionate and singing a lot, and the day was nice so that was OK.

My last few days included eating the best steak ever which was stuffed with cheese, ham, sundried tomato and god knows what else, and which practically climbed into my mouth to be enjoyed. When I remember the name of the place I will let you know, but it is in Palermo. I also spent some time at the Ecological Reserve with Jay, and wandering some more through the city to see the Cathedral near Plaza de Mayo and some shops.

Finally I sadly had to say goodbye to my new friends in BA and jump on my bus for Puerto Iguazu. I really wanted to hang around a bit longer with Charlie, Zac and Jay – three of the coolest people I have met on the road, and who I dearly hope I will see again. I really had the best time with you guys, especially Jay who I was lucky enough to spend a whole week with (thats a record on my travels). Much love to you all on your travels and take care.

I don’t really have much to say about my few days in Cordóba – they seem like a dim memory now, though it was only a week ago.

I was lucky enough to (once again) meet cool people in the forms of James, Brad and Vik and of course we went out drinking and dancing. Tequilas made a reappearance with the expected effect – a somewhat tipsy Carly but a good night.

We stayed in Baluch Backpackers Hostel (I’ll review it for you later). It was a nice enough hostel though it was away from the hopping part of town which upon arrival I realised was Nuevo Cordóba and not the centre. The city generally felt sort of dead, despite the fact that we were there on a weekend. The locals at the hostel told us that the after-parties were better than the actual clubbing, but that said after-parties started at 6 or 7 in the morning. WhatEV0R. We went out at 12am and were tired and in bed by 6.30. That was good enough for us

James realised that he liked my mandolin and had some fun with it (he can play it better than I can, though that didn’t surprise me as I think everyone can play it better than I, lol) and Brad and I discovered that not only were we headed to Buenos Aires on the same day, but we planned to stay in the same hostel. We quickly decided to book tickets together on the same bus and spend our last day horse riding.

We went with the hostel’s horseriding tour which turned out to be a 2 hour ride to the place, then 2 hours of horse riding (most of which was on a dirt road to get to the “cool” part) and then a 2 hour bus ride back. The scenery was not as spectacular as I had hoped, but the bus ride itself gave me an opportunity to see some parts near Cordóba that I hadn’t laid eyes on yet – there is some beautiful country out there.

My horse was a bit feisty and insisted on a bit of a pace most of the way, which was a pleasant change from the trudging whore-horses I have been riding since I arrived. Brad was not so lucky and was reduced to plodding along far behind the guide Maxi and I. Suffice to say that Brad and I agreed that this particular horse riding tour did not deserve to be rated.

So went my time in Cordóba… on to Buenos Aires!

In a few hours I am off to Argentina. By bus. 16 hours. oooer.

For those of you who do contact me by phone, my Chilean number won’t function outside the country, so good luck with that (lol@you).

I’ll be going to Cordoba first. I’ll keep you updated

Farewell to all my friends in Santiago – I am going to miss you a lot!

Take care everyone, I love you all.

Carly